


Five Times It Didn't Help That Hawkeye Was An Omega  and One Time It Ruined Everything.

by andrea_deer



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Gift Fic, M/M, Omega Hawkeye, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrea_deer/pseuds/andrea_deer
Summary: This was a mistake. He only came here so willingly because there was no chance... He stumped his finger angrily at the page that clearly stated his secondary gender.„I'm an omega,” he said, feeling his face burn as he had to reclaim his identity in front of all of this strangers, in potential earshot of a dumbass alpha, in plain sight and-„Welcome to the US Army, Omega.”
Relationships: "Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	Five Times It Didn't Help That Hawkeye Was An Omega  and One Time It Ruined Everything.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leavesatanalone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavesatanalone/gifts).



> **Merry Christmas, rajka! Next time you will be more specific with your prompts :D I hope you at least enjoy some of the angst! :)**
> 
> This could be better and should have way more research done but then it would be even later and possibly never posted, so here we are. Please keep in mind I mostly wrote it at work, between the calls. *shrugs*

_one_

„I hope you have a very good explanation, doctor Pierce as to why you need to reschedule your surgery. Preferably one that does not include terms 'boring' or 'beneath me', because you may think yourself the best surgeon here but it does not allow you to pick and chose what you will and won't do.”

Hawkeye had a feeling that was exactly what it could mean if he only on top of his remarkably decent skills had a relative in the hospital's board. Like for example the teen whose tonsils he was supposed to cut the next day. Or maybe at least a few more years of experience under his belt.

„Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement at this time,” he replied smoothly, smiling at doctor Whitman, the director of the hospital, trying to invite him in on a joke he didn't know about yet.

Sadly, doctor Whitman hated the jokes, especially the ones he wasn't in on yet. He also hated Hawkeye which at least made their regard of each other quite mutual.

„And why wasn't that included in your schedule?”

„Well, I guess the army doesn't like to announce themselves too early. I guess it makes it harder to catch the potential wanderers.”

Whitman stilled.

„You got the draft notice?”

„I'm to report to the committee tomorrow morning.” Suddenly he felt as if he was supposed to reassure the other doctor. „I understand the final decision on whether the army wants my prime example of American manliness is in their hands.”

Doctor Whitman rather impolitely ignored yet another invite for a bit of stress-reducing camaraderie. 

„Good luck, Pierce,” he only said gravely. „I will figure out your schedule. Don't worry about it.”

Hawkeye nodded and left the room, for the first time feeling almost guilty for enjoying the privacy the city allowed him. No one in Crabapple Cove would even think to worry about him. What would an army want with an unbonded omega? Weren't they in enough troubles already? He didn't even bother calling his dad. If not for the dumb last-minute scheduled tonsillectomy he probably would've forgotten to tell Whitman. 

So far he only bothered to tell a really lovely redheaded girl he met in a bar. Apparently, the potential of going off to fight for your country was an aphrodisiac. He didn't bother to mention they will never draft an unbonded omega, he didn't even bother to mention he was in fact, an omega. In the sea of betas no one even looked twice at him and he _adored_ it.

In Crabapple Cove everyone knew that Doctor Daniel Pierce had an Omega son. Almost as long as Hawkeye remembered he was Ben, the Omega. Or later, when his school friends used his nicknames and his dad slipped too often to his patients and they just gave up he became Hawkeye. Pierce's omega kid.

In the city, he flew so low below the radar that even the army didn't get the memo.

„You're a volunteer?” A guy asked as they waited for the doctor examination, lined up in their shorts, their clothes and dignity left in the small locker room behind them. 

Hawkeye looked up and then up some more over the muscled mountain of a man.

„I assure you I mean absolutely no offence by that but: _absolutely_ not.”

The guy clearly did not listen to the polite request and took all the offence and then some.

„You're some kind of a coward? You seemed more chipper than all those dragged in here, so I thought at least you're a proper patriot but I guess not.”

„I'm a doctor,” Hawkeye shrugged. „It doesn't quite work with all that volunteering to kill people.”

The guy stalked off angrily and Hawkeye just rolled his eyes. _Alphas._

„Benjamin Franklin Pierce!” called a voice from behind the partition and Hawkeye followed, wondering if perhaps tonsillectomy wasn't a better option. Even if he had to deal with the kids' smarmy parents. At least he would be dressed for that.

Without much surprise, he passed the medical examination, even if he erred towards the lower scale on weight and height. He honestly answered all the questions about the regularity of his heat (pretty dependable and not too often), bounds (none) and current alpha partners (none) all the time wondering how they could both know he was an omega and yet still send him the draft notice? How much of a mess the army really was? He dressed and answered the interviewer's questions on the autopilot, snapping once a stamp was slammed on his file right after the sergeant told him he's in.

„I'm sorry, what?”

„You will be leaving for the training in a week with a new bunch of recruits. Please pack accordingly and make sure your situation here is settled. After the training, you will be sent to Korea, probably to a medical unit.” He looked up at Hawkeye. „We need doctors.”

„Really? I wonder why, what with all the shooting... No, no, no, wait, you can't do that.”

He heard the snort from some guy behind him but he could hardly care at this point. This was a mistake. He only came here so willingly because there was no chance...

He stumped his finger angrily at the page that clearly stated his secondary gender.

„I'm an omega,” he said, feeling his face burn as he had to reclaim his identity in front of all of this strangers, in potential earshot of a dumbass alpha, in plain sight and-

„Welcome to the US Army, Omega.”

_two_

Improvisation was all great and well, the mother of comedy really, but preparedness was even more brilliant when you tried to survive the war. Hawkeye decided to bet on both. He packed two Hawaiian shirts, some underwear, some booze, all the army grab he was given and filled every other free space with heat suppressants. This seemed reasonable. His father said to be careful, to take enough. Hawkeye wanted to shout how is he supposed to know what is enough?! How long will he be there? If he’s lucky the war will end the next week and it will all be for nothing but when was he that fucking lucky? Certainly not in the last few months.

He tried to find out as much as possible about the M*A*S*H unit he was being sent to. Back in the States it was easy enough to find the vets and their families, happy to tell the tales of their own M*A*S*H units of the past. The stories of the pain and blood and terror, but Hawkeye carefully avoided them all. That would not do well for his well-cunned plan of grand improvisation, turning his insides into ice and filling them with lead.

The moment he stepped out of the plane in Tokio he started his reconnaissance mission which lasted through the whole journey to Seoul and then Uijongbu City and even on the jeep ride over with the doctor who came to pick him up.

“Do they often send surgeons for taxi drives?”

“Only on special occasions!” the guy assured him with a bright grin. 

He easily picked Hawkeye’s bags tossing them in the back of the jeep, strong arms carefully displayed under the cut off sleaves. He was taller and broader then Hawkeye and smelling great. Brilliant. Apparently, his new unit decided to great him with an Alpha. He wondered how much of a chance he had for it to be a coincidence. 

He met the man’s eyes and refused to back down, throwing his hand out in a greeting.

“Hawkeye.” He said without adding anything else, partly to be difficult, partly to test the waters.

“Spearchucker.” The man replied with a grin.

Hawkeye raised his eyebrows, wondering briefly if it was a test of its own and he was about to be decked for using offensive words and proving himself a dickhead on the first day. He decided to avoid the nickname as long as he could to judge the situation better. No point in provoking an alpha before he managed to unpack.

The road was bumpy and his companion was more on the quiet side, so Hawkeye filled the silence and their car with random babbles and subtle inquiries. He knew already there were two alpha doctors in the 4077th, he was trying to figure out both while only talking to one.

“Stop! Stop the car!” he shouted suddenly, seeing the fallen-over truck on the side of the road.

Spearchucker slowed down but the car didn’t stop, he was watching the side carefully. Making sure what they were dealing with and if it was safe to get out, probably. It was a far more reasonable approach then Hawkeye’s mad dash out of the jeep and to the wounded. Spearchucker cursed and moved after him tossing a medical field bag at his head, almost braining him.

“Thanks!” Hawkeye grinned unrepentant, his panicked maniacal humour raising to the surface. He bent over a young kid in khakis whose leg was bent at the unnatural angle. “Hey, it’s my first day, you wanna walk me through this?”

The kid turned his huge, terrified eyes at him and Hawk automatically softened and run his hand through the guy’s hair before opening the medical bag and focusing on the broken leg.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, it’s all old news, I could do it with my eyes closed. I just wanted you to feel special, thinking you're my first and all.”

The kid’s chuckle was weak and wet and Hawkeye counted it as a success anyway and grinned at him victoriously. The ambulance bus came through twenty minutes later and they helped the enlisted men put all the wounded on board before Spearchucker led Hawkeye back to the jeep. 

Looking far less clean pressed and bushy-tailed, he was shaking like a leaf. He didn’t notice how the adrenaline drained out of him until he realized he is staring in fascination at how badly his legs were shaking. He was far more annoyed when he realized he was back in the jeep but they were still just seating there and Spearchucker’s hand was clasped on his neck, grounding him. He hated that he needed that even more than the fact that it worked. He bent down obediently, putting his head between his legs and breathing through the shock.

“I’m fine,” he finally mumbled, waving his hand at Spearchucker’s arm, sitting up and trying to dislodge him.

Spearchucker held on for another moment to make a point, squeezed Hawkeye’s neck slightly and let him go, starting the engine.

“There are mine fields here,” he said levelly. “And North Koreans happy to trick us into coming closer. Snipers. Guerilla fighters who look just like your local villagers. Bombs. Lot’s of really bad shit.” He looked at Hawkeye carefully. “You won’t be able to help everybody. And if you jump out of the jeep like that again and I’ll kick your butt.”

Hawkeye kept on nodding automatically but his petty side could only handle so much.

“It’s sweet that you care!” he said an overly saccharine voice, batting his eyelashes at his companion.

Spearchuker snorted.

“I’m the one with fewest points left to do, smartass. If you get your sorry ass killed, they might decide to keep me longer. And I’m not dealing with that.”

They were almost at the camp when Hawkeye realized he failed to get any more information. Perhaps he seemed anxious or Spearchucker decided he deserved to know the basics anyway. Probably to keep him from messing up with his discharge.

“You’ll be bunking with us. No one will care that you’re an omega, few will notice and I’m not one to spread the news. We share with two other docs, one beta, one alpha. Beta’s okay. The alpha is a pain in the ass and not in a fun way,” he added waving his finger at Hawkeye who snorted. “I’m willing to bet it will take him over a month to figure out you’re not a beta.”

Hawkeye grinned and extended his hand.

“Twenty bucks say I can make it up to three.”

_three_

Frank Burns spoke to Hawkeye for less than a minute before deciding they will most definitely not get along. It was one of the very few times when they were in full agreement. Usually, alphas were somewhat more… palatable to omegas. Technically. They smelled better, they were more attractive, even outside of the heat. In the really dark nights, Hawkeye sometimes thought very carefully about how lost in the heat he’d have to be for that to be enough to make him attracted to Frank Burns.

As he shook wrapped in the blankets and riding out the weakened with enough suppressants heat there was hardly anything else he could think about. He kissed Frank two nights ago. Sure, it was a joke and they were stealing his blood at the time and Trap was keeping close as they sneaked around the tent but it was still worrying. Especially as he stayed close for a bit too long, lingered even. Absentmindedly thinking Frank doesn’t look so bad when it’s almost completely dark and he is almost adorable with his ridiculous mumblings. It was fun.

As he realized he was running a slight fever the next day it started to look way less fun. Even less so when he walked into the swamp and saw Spearchucker sleeping off his night duty and made a step towards the man's cot before remembering he couldn’t just slide into his friend’s bed. He shook his head and tucked himself in.

“This is going to be so much fun,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

The suppressants didn’t kill the heat entirely. He kept his mind, even if it was distracted. The alphas didn’t go crazy around him, even if it was harder for him to stay unnoticed. He already lowered the dose of his suppressants knowing how spare they were and how hard it would've been to get more if he run out. He doubted they had a high chance of making it through the mail. Not as expensive as they were in Korea these days.

He woke up later in the evening to a cold hand smoothing down the hair off his forehead before sliding to his overheated neck. He moaned before he even realized he was going to make a sound. The hand stilled and he wanted it all over him, so he stilled as well and struggled to get his bearings enough to figure out what he needed to do. He stopped the quiet needy noises coming from his mouth as soon as he realized he was the one making them.

He blinked his eyes and focused on Trapper’s face. He gulped.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey, yourself. Feeling alright?”

“The cat is out of the bag, huh?”

“Nah, I just took a look into the sack. Others are still in the dark.”

He grinned and moved, leaning into Hawkeye’s cot. Hawkeye closed his eyes and swallowed dryly.

“Spearchucker made sure Frank has post-op duty tonight and fucked off to smooch with Berley, but he told me to bring you something to drink and some food.”

“’s nice.”

“Yeah, he a good boy like that.” Trapped helped him sit up and hold the glass. It wasn’t strictly speaking necessary but Hawk leaned against him anyway, deciding to indulge a bit. The man smelled fucking fantastic.

“You doin' okay?” Trapper finally asked. 

He was awkward and stiff but still held Hawkeye. One of his hands uncertainly lifting to Hawkeye's hair and petting it calmingly.  
Hawkeye wanted to turn around and wriggle closer, hiding his face between Trap's neck and his fluffy yellow robe. Lick his neck until Trap snapped and pushed him against the bed, pressing him tightly...

He took a deep breath and moved away slightly.

“I'll be fine, Trap. I've had some suppressants and I got laid like yesterday. I will be okay. I may feel horribly grossed out tomorrow by all my thoughts on how Frank is not the worst human being but I will deal.”

“Wow, it's really affecting you.” Hawkeye glared unimpressed at Trapper's grinning face. “Not the worst human being? Gee.”

“If you have to know I was in the middle of a very detailed daydream about his not-very-surgeon-like hands finally being put to some good use before you woke me up and distracted me with your phenomenal smell. If you want to survive unmolested I suggest you let me get back to it.”

Trapper hesitated.  
And Hawkeye was slow, overheated and tense and utterly distracted and if they took him to OR he could've rival Frank at incompetence but this, this he noticed immediately. He narrowed his eyes as Trapper cast his all over the tent, shuffling away with a nervous chuckle.

“I have to be on duty in a few hours.”

It was supposed to be a no. An excuse. A joke, as if he even needed an excuse to say no.

Hawkeye heard _'we have a few hours'_ that was implied there instead and crawled into Trap's arms, falling straight into a hungry kiss. 

“Okay, slow down, slow down, you racin'” Trapper gasped, trying to free them from their clothes between the frantic groping and kissing. 

“I'm in a heat,” snapped Hawkeye finally tagging his shirt off. “What's your excuse?”

“I'm just doing a good deed and making you stop thinking of Frank?”

Hawkeye paused with this his hand mid-opening Trapper's pants.

“Who's Frank?” 

He opened the belt smoothly enough, the metal clings too quiet to be heard over Trapper's uproarious laughter.

_four_

One thing you can always trust omegas with are kids and smelling an alpha. Everything else was debatable. If men tended to think women automatically knew what to do with babies it went doubly so for omegas. After all, that was really what differed them from the rest of society, they could have babies regardless of their primary gender, they were biologically coded to want to breed every few months. They nested and fed others, they were always the mum in the group, looking for their ducklings.  
  
Hawkeye made a small fortune thanks to those preconceptions when he was in high school, easily stealing every babysitting job he wanted. Who would hire a sixteen-year-old girl when they could hire an actual omega? They also let him get away with more, which was lucky considering Teddy Johnston almost broke his leg when playing Superman under Hawkeye's not-so-watchful eye.  
  
The whole magical instinct seemed a bit fake to Hawkeye to be fair. He liked kids alright but considered it a basic common sense that they required feeding, watching, changing and plenty of attention. When people swooned over his natural talents he finally asked his dad, asked if that _really_ wasn't obvious?  
  
His dad had rolled his eyes and told him some people will think it a miracle if the baby's father will change a diaper once. Report him for sainthood if he does so unprompted.  
  
“It's hardly rocket science, son. God knows by those standards I should be pope's best friend.”  
  
The idea of his own nappies being changed at some point was revulsive enough to the fifteen years old that he only winced and avoided the subject further, adding it to the growing list of those weird things that people just assume are right. Since his second year of medicine, he played around with writing a paper about the myth that omega's parental instincts were but it never came to fruition.  
  
When he noticed the way people in camp reacted to little Kim he realized that most people in the right circumstances can be charmed by an adorable toddler. In the middle of the war, something so innocent and uncorrupted was incredibly precious. He reminded them there was a world behind the blood and guts and pointless deaths.  
  
If he were more into psychology he would write about that instead. He considered at least putting his thoughts in the latter to his dad but then the whole world tilted when Trapper showed him the letter he penned to Louise, asking her to consider adopting a young Korean boy. Suddenly the kid was not some random ray of sunshine in the gutter they were stuck in, he was Trapper's and it seemed perhaps Hawkeye should put a bit more faith in some folk tales.  
  
“You're okay, Hawk?” Trapper asked, frowning mildly. He was helping Kim get dressed, both of them sitting on Trap's cot, ruffled and softened with sleep.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” Hawk lied quickly with a smile, grateful that Sparechucker was long gone and tucked away safely in his home in the US. There was no way he wouldn't be able to smell how affected Hawkeye was.  
  
He doubled his dose of suppressants anyway and distracted himself with nurses and scheming and helping Trapper out. Keeping his mind loud and busy enough not to hear the ridiculous, dangerous thoughts running in the background. _'We could have kids. Technically it's not impossible. It's more difficult with a beta but with close enough bond and few heats without suppressants to balance out the hormone levels... Maybe some additional hormonal treatment... It was technically possible... Maybe they'd even have curls like Trap.. their kids'._ They were in the middle of the war and Trapper was married and had kids of his own with Louise and Hawkeye wasn't an idiot. It was just that his body sometimes forgot about that.  
  
The night after Kim's mum appeared and took him away, took him home, Hawkeye got into Trapper's cot almost as soon as Frank left to meet Hot Lips. He wrapped himself around the miserable shape of Trapper, all curled over himself as if trying to warn off the rest of the world and the pain it brought on.  
  
“I'm sorry,” he said.  
  
He swallowed the weak _'it wasn't meant to be'_ as it never helped anyone.  
  
_'We could have a son together one day'_ , he didn't even dare to think too loudly. It was a technicality. Technically Trap could have a kid with plenty of people in the camp. He just wasn't going to and Hawkeye was nothing extraordinary in that case just because the bits to make the kids with were slightly different.  
  
“I'm so sorry, Trap,” he said again.

_five_

At first, Hawkeye was terrified he was being obvious and Trapper will realize how deeply he is messing up their casual relationship. Then he started worrying he’s in love with an oblivious idiot.  
  
Eventually, he realized textbooks made them all stupid. In school, they were all thought about omegas and alphas and how they were different from others. How omegas take care of their families and homes. How they nurture and nest while alphas protect and provide. Those were the basic explanations of their instincts that were emphasised over and over with the same models. Plum cheerful omega cleaning the house, changing nappies and cooing over the cute babies. Swooning at their alpha while trying to keep him warm and fed and taken care of. Cooking, cleaning, childbearing… Alphas were even shown haunting to give a perfect example of providing.  
  
No one ever thought about the fact that nesting was sometimes just keeping the home comfortable and protecting it from the assholes who tried to change it. No one looked twice at Hawkeye yelling at Frank who threatened to clean up the Swamp unless of course, they were still surprised how anyone could want to live in that filth. No one quite got that another alpha messing with his place, with the place he shared with Trapper, made Hawkeye’s skin crawl.

He noticed Hot Lips never questioned the Swamp itself. She was uptight about everything else but the Swamp she understood. Despite not being an omega, being raised by the classic alpha/omega pair she automatically followed the dynamic easier than others, using the instincts she learned rather than inherited.  
No one noticed how often Trapper ended up eating Hawkeye’s food, how often Hawkeye wore Trapper’s clothes. No one paid any attention when they cut each other's hair, when Trapper threatened people being aggressive to Hawkeye, when they moved in synch, when Hawkeye leaned on Trapper... When Hawkeye lost it, sleep-deprived and frustrated and they had to drug him and Trapper stayed watching over him, watching him sleep... 

Maybe if people already knew Hawkeye was an omega. He felt like he wouldn't be able to hide what was going on from Sparechucker. He had a feeling Sidney, literally, the only other omega within miles and miles, had him all figured out. Then again, almost everyone felt that way about Sidney, so it was hard to tell. Mostly he was terrified Trapper was going to find out and freak out, back the hell out of this semi-serious relationship with an omega who tried his best to bond with him as much as it was possible with a beta.  
  
Then he started getting bolder.  
  
He spent another heat with Trap, switched their dog tags, half in a joke, half in some sort of a twisted and twice deflected romantic gesture and he went out into the world in Trap's shirt, mixing their smells.  
  
No one had any idea.

_and one_

He still felt clammy and his head was splitting. It felt like he forgot how intense full-blown heats were or perhaps they were hitting harder after he turned thirty or after he was on suppressants for over five years. Still, there was no way he could stay on his own stash and to switch to the ones made available by the army he had to come off the old ones first. Unfortunately, that tended to spark heats and he had the rotten luck to struck gold on that.

“At least I'm getting a leave!” Hawkeye grinned.

He felt sick then already, too hot and irritated but trying to calm Trapper down.

“Very selfish of you,” Trapper added jokingly.

There was no way Frank would let them both go. Perhaps if Trapper was an alpha, if they actually bonded...

“Now, now, who would patch our dear soldier boys if they showed up wounded? With me gone we're down to only one surgeon and that's tight enough!”

“Isn't Frank a surgeon?” frowned Trap.

“I heard that gossip,” Hawkeye agreed faux earnestly. “But I never gave it much credit.”

Trap made a step towards him and Hawkeye stepped away as if crowded even though there was still plenty of space between them.

“Sorry.”

Hawk shook his head.

“If I smell or feel you right now...” he gulped. “I need to be able to make it to Seoul.”

Trap nodded and stayed away so properly and obediently Hawkeye wanted to punch him. If he only stopped being so reasonable and just trigger the heat, join Hawkeye in this humiliating, delicious dance... No one would be allowed to separate them for days. More even if they suspected Hawkeye could be pregnant. Never if he actually was.

He licked his lips decisively not thinking how they could try for that now. He didn't want kids, certainly not yet, not in the middle of the goddamn war but it was hard to remember that at the moment. 

He packed a few of his things, trying to be reasonable but finding it difficult when barely a few percents of his brain were still working and could actually focus on something as mundane as packing. By the time he was in a secure room in a hotel in Seoul, he didn't care what he had with him or even where he was. Seoul offered a lot of reliefs to an unbound omega in heat and Hawkeye was open to all of them. When he was packing to go back he realized he not only stole Trapper's robe but also had it dirtied and ripped, and in his last hours of freedom, slammed with hangover and exhaustion looked for a replacement. He found a blue one this time. He thought it would look nice on him.  
  
He was too tired and too sore to care about much of anything else as he drove back into the camp. He didn't even try to pretend he was doing fine or not recovering from a heat. To get the pass he had to tell Frank and he had no doubt the news of his omega status was quickly passed to Margaret and Korea knew those two were the worst secret keepers. If there was anyone in the camp who didn't know by now they had to actively avoid the information.  
  
Hawkeye mocked Frank, waved cheekily at everyone and made his way straight to the showers, still fully clothed. He didn't expect Radar to follow him. And with horrible news as well.

“What do you mean he left? They couldn't just ship him out! They can't just split us up.”

“Well, you weren't bonded, Hawkeye and-”

“I could have been! We're in the middle of the war! No one sane bonds here!” He chose not to think about all the couples he heard about or knew, they do bond. It's rare because there are just so very few omegas in the army and not that many alphas either but they do bond. It breaks them when one of them dies. It's not something anyone sane would risk.

“Hawkeye, he's a Beta, you can't-”

Hawkeye slams his fist against the shower's wall. Of course it didn't bloody mean anything.

“He didn't leave a note? Not anything?”

“Well, he told me to give you something but I don't-”

“What! What! Tell me!”

“Oh, fine, but remember it was his idea!”

Radar reluctantly stepped closer and gave him a chaste kiss on a cheek.  
If there was ever a less-alpha way to say goodbye Hawkeye was yet to figure it out.


End file.
